69 Hues of Deez Nutz 8: Mary Poppins calls JK Rowling an asshole
by BusterManwomb
Summary: Having suffered a dip in business, Mary Poppins finds herself anally propelled across dimensions until she has to tweet the ultimate challenge. Masturbate, laugh, love, and bask in the unrelenting sexual majesty of this newest masterpiece from everybody's favourite broth-scented literary genuis, Buster Manwomb
1. Chapter 1

69 Hues of Deez Nuts 8: Mary Poppins calls JK Rowling an Asshole

About the Author

Buster Manwomb had two protégés: Grr, who was named after Buster's adoptive wolf mother, and Phyllis Assup, who was named for Buster's biological grandfather and infamous Celt pimp Fiealelœsče Æhßeõppe.

Both were lost and presumed dead in the deadly Dumpster Emptying of Last Tuesday.

Chapter 1: Gardening on the Shoulders of Giants

Mary Poppins wasn't sure how many more parsnips she could fit in her asshole.

In retrospect it seemed like no surprise that her career would make this dark turn. One of the many dystopian joys of late stage capitalism was that most people of child-bearing age struggled to afford to keep their larvae from starving to death, let alone afford a nanny when they molt and turn into insufferable shits.

If she had saved her money, she may have avoided this unfortunate downturn. Unfortunately, her addictions to mozzarella sticks and blackjack was to her savings what a hard dick is to a warm apple pie.

Clearly selling her body was the most viable choice to repay her debts. Choosing not to liquidate her organs, like a muslim in a chinese prison, she chose to rent them out instead, which led to this moment where Mary Poppins was chewing on the sexual organs of a client whose kink was assfuls of tubers.

"Oh yes, yes! Chew on my juicy clitoris, you dirty bitch!" Jacob Two-Two mewled as he lubricated another handful of locally sourced produce. "There's so many parsnips up in this literal shit, people are going to have to call your asshole the starting season in Stardew Valley!"

Jacob Two Two must have gone to a catholic school, because he clearly had no idea about how sex worked. Not that it mattered; since his sexual organs were a burlap sack filled with oily sponges and pine cones, and looked about as much like a clitoris as it did a penis. Regardless, Mary Poppins chewed it with a dutiful ferocity, making it squeak between her teeth.

"Oooh I'm so close! So close!" Jacob Two-two screamed. "Do the thing! Do the thing I paid extra for!"

Upon instruction, Mary Poppins poured a milk jug of lukewarm maple syrup onto Jacob Two-two's clitoris, and screamed the entirety of the classic short story 'Sonic's Ultimate Harem' at his testicles, which resembled very attentive Cabbage Patch Kids.

Jacob Two-two could delay his climax no longer. His genitals leaked A thin fizzy fluid, like baking soda and vinegar had mixed within the burlap. The constitution of his body seemed to soften, and he collapsed backwards onto a beanbag chair like a half-inflated sex doll. The remaining vaseline-soaked parsnip fell from his hand like the snowglobe in Citizen Kane.

The windows disintegrated as two old women dressed as ninjas flew threw the air, landing gracefully in front of Jacob Two-two with doily-shaped shurikens bared in their hands.

"Do what you may." Jacob Two-two wheezed, satisfied. "Life has nothing more to offer me."

The geriatric assassins shredded Jacob Two-two as badly as a right-wing youtuber shreds a video game for offering pronoun options in character creation. As the ghost of Jacques Cartier dragged away Jacob Two-two's minty fresh carcass, Kermit awoke from his bath in a pimp chalice full of hopped mead.

"We hope you enjoyed your sexual interactions with Mary Poppins." Kermit recited. "Next please."

"Hang on, Kermit." Mary Poppins said, refitting her belt buckle. "I gotta sneeze."

It was too late. Stephen Hawking was already rolling into the room.

"Hello." Stephen Hawking said, as expressive as ever. "I was told there would be parsnips?"

"ACHOOOÜ!" Mary Poppins sneezed with the fury of a white supremacist that thinks it's unrealistic for a humanoid fish with hair and breasts to have dark skin.

The force of the sneeze forced the parsnips out of Mary Poppins' ass, pelting Stephen Hawking with a farmer's market worth of the high-velocity vegetation, and propelling Mary Poppins out the window and into the night.

"We uh, apologize for the technical difficulties." Kermit said once Mary Poppins twinkled in the sky, Team Rocket style. "We hope you enjoyed your sexual interaction with Miss Poppins. That'll be two thousand dollars."

"I'll give you eight if you leave me like this." Stephen Hawking negotiated.


	2. Chapter 2

About the Author:

Often referred to as "The Bubsy the Cat of Fanfiction", Buster Manwomb has been marked for death by both the Catholic Church and the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster, and is currently in hiding, working as a fisherman off the salty coasts of Calgary, Alberta under the pseudonym Vôteva Yewdascide.

Don't you fucking dare tell the Pope.

Chapter 2: The Dark Souls of Chapters.

Mary Poppins wasn't proud of it, but parsnip farts were the only way that she could get a decently sized break night to night.

Ordinarily her farts would propel her half a block down, so she could easily manoeuvre herself to land in the Taco Bell parking lot and treat herself to a chicken sandwich with crunchwrap supremes instead of bread. She called it the chicken crunchwich.

However the logistically perplexing concentration of parsnips packed into Mary Poppins' poop chute had her gassier than any actual human after eating a whole chicken crunchwich. She overshot the taco bell, and soon overshot the lights of the city.

Her ass continued to warble, expelling air like an Opera Singer under the direction of Bugs Bunny. At some point to seemed to break orbit, surrounding herself in the unrelenting majesty of the cosmos.

Still farting, Mary Poppins picked up speed, breaking the light barrier and squeezing through a tunnel dimension, where all laws of physics are but a perversion of human understanding.

Still farting, but less potently, Mary Poppins emerged in the Star Wars universe, colliding into the Starkiller base with enough momentum to destroy it and actually grant Episode VII a meaningful iota of narrative distinction from Episode IV.

Getting a second wind, Mary Poppins regained her momentum and reentered the tunnel dimension. She wondered if this was to be her life now, farting her way through different planes of existence for all eternity.

Because she had to fucking jinx it, Mary Poppins felt the last parsnip pop out of her ass with a heartbreaking and anticlimactic *piff*. She suddenly noticed the featureless black ground mere meters below her that she was suddenly falling towards very very quickly.

Mary Poppins' pussy was a tardis, luckily. Hiking up her skirt, she tugged out the magical umbrella she had won from a half-giant in a game of Russian Roulette. Gliding to the ground slowly, Mary Poppins landed on her feet and was able to take in her surroundings.

The ground was black, and slanted slightly. The sky was also black. It was as dark as an old Frank Miller comic, and about as interesting as a new Frank Miller comic.

Eventually a light turned on. At first Mary Poppins thought it was the sun, but then her eyes adjusted to the light and she realized that she was standing on a table in a giant studio. Literally giant: it looked like it was meant to accommodate people that were fifty feet tall.

"What are you doing here?" A silhouette of a giant entered the room. The only discernible feature was its dominatrix outfit made of reflective tape. Their whip wobbled from side to side as they stepped closer.

"I farted here by mistake." Mary Poppins nervously responded. "If you happen to have a parsnip on hand, I could probably made my way back without a problem.

"Oh, no. No no no, we can't have that. You're trespassing. We can't let you trespass without paying your dues!" The figure walked closer, towering over Mary Poppins.

"What does that mean?" Mary Poppins asked.

The figure walked closer, its afro now prominent in its silhouette. "You're going to have to paint some happy little trees.


	3. Chapter 3

About the author:

Known by Best Buy and Circuit City employees across the country as "That loud, wrinkly thing that keeps forcing us to burn our demo-model webcams", Buster Manwomb is determined to bare their tits on the internet, scream about Kabuki Quantum Fighter on NES, and finally make them sweet Gamer Gurl Youtuber dollahs.

Chapter 3: Gettin some o' dat entwood

The barrel of the gun that the giant dominatrix Bob Ross pointed at Mary Poppins' head was thrice the diameter of Mary Poppins' head, so she had very little reason to leave the easel and canvas that had been put down in front of her. Holding a fully prepped palette board, Mary Poppins wondered what the fuck was going on.

"M'kay." Bob Ross said, his voice as milky and soft as ever. "Today I think we're going to do something daring. How about…. a landscape. Let's start with a nice, bright sky."

Having watched a Bob Ross episode once, years ago, Mary poppings got ahead of him and prepared to dab the paint into one of the dollops of blue on her pallette.

"NO!" Bob Ross screamed uncharacteristically, cocking the gun. "That's PRUSSIAN blue! when you're making a sky, you use PHTALO blue!" Suddenly he resorted to his calm, soothing norm. "Unless you want to try the prussian blue. This is your world. You can do whatever you want."

Mary Poppins decided to use the phtalo blue, and was very careful to follow the criss cross motions to define the clouds. She was very happy to hear Bob Ross uncock the gun after she made a halfway decent mountain with the pallet knife, and a couple of foothills.

Using a small, bushy brush, Mary Poppin started pushing grasslands into the foreground when she heard the gun cock again.

"MAKE THE FUNNY SOUNDS!" Bob Ross screamed at Mary Poppins.

"... doot, doot doot, doot…" Mary Poppins said in rhythm with her paint dabs.

"You have to make the sounds, or it doesn't work. Now make a tree."

Mary Poppins mixed a little bit of the alizarin crimson into the burnt umber, and made a beautiful tree with mystical, winding branches.

"Fantastic." Bob Ross said. Now make another one."

"It's already rather large, though…" Mary Poppins hesitated.

The gun cocked again. "YOU TAKE THAT BRUSH, and give that tree a goddamn friend!"

"Alright, alright!" Mary Poppins conceded. "Christ on cheesy biscuits, you're forceful."

"It's the outfit." Bob Ross cracked his whip in acknowledgement. "It tugs in *all* the wrong places."

Mary Poppin's second tree wound up being a challenge to paint since she needed to paint the branches intertwining with the first tree. By the time she was done, the painting wound up looking-by complete coincidence- like a scene where Treebeard the ent was gently yet passionately mounting Groot from behind.

"Finished." Mary Poppins declared, signing the painting.

"Oh, yes, that's just lovely." Bob Ross smiled, looking at the painting. "Just… so nice…. Too nice! i can't handle it! Oh! Yes! YES!"

Bob Ross' exploded into a cloud of glitter, which faded away to reveal a jet black parsnip. It hovered in midair, and smoothly approached Mary Poppins. It's texture looked featureless, yet crowded, as it it's otherworldly form bore a hidden nature exclusive to Mary Poppins.

"My God!" Mary Poppin yeeted. "It's full of stars!"

And then she fell into the parsnip's dark void.


	4. Chapter 4

About the author:

Buster Manwomb has the body of two emaciated second graders, and the sense of humour of half an obese third grader.

Chapter 4: When the title finally starts to make sense

After a brief acid trip that lasted roughly seventy percent of the third act of a Kubrick film, Mary Poppins stepped into what looked like Jeff Bridge's condo in Tron: Legacy.

"The fuck am I?" Mary Poppins wondered aloud.

_tump_

Marry Poppins heard a light sound coming from the next room over, like metal hitting wood.

Mary Poppins turned around a corner, and saw JK Rowling sitting at the edge of a large dining table. She slouched in her chair, with her mouth agape and her head resting with a lilt that would give any human adult a terrible ache after five minutes.

The table was empty except for a cell phone and a bottomless bucket of darts.

without moving any other body part, JK Rowling's left arm weakly dragged over to the dart bucket, and wrapped around a single dart.

_Tump_

JK Rowling's arm whipped forward with startling speed, shooting the dart into a cork billboard that domunated the farthest wall. Thousands of sticky notes with words written on them. Many of them had a multitude of dart holes already in them.

"Don't touch the wall."

Mary Poppins turned back around. Behind JK Rowling, Tim Curry in his Legend makeup was sitting on an obsidian throne. At first he seemed to have been masturbating, but upon closer inspection he was actually masturbating.

"Where am I?" Mary Poppins asked, stepping out of the way as JK Rowling slung another dart at the wall.

"You're in the dimension of gracelessly prolonged relevancy."

"The fuck for that mean?" Mary Poppins demanded.

"It means that JK Rowling is tweeting weird Harry Potter facts, keeping herself relevant, but at the expense of her legacy abd her life force." Tim Curry in Legend explained. "She's making a new tweet now."

Mary Poppins looked at JK Rowling. She muttered under her breath, gathering the words written on the notes her darts hit. Her skin seemed to trail a secobd behind the movements of her jaw. Mary Poppins could hear creaking as her eyes twitched.

Then her hand began to slap the phone screen, like she was a toddler playing Flappy Bird, then tapped the top right corner.

Mary Poppins leaned into the screen. Twitter was open. Her newest tweet still sat at the top

"Ginny and Fawkes experimented with custard in their urethras."

Mary Poppins was disgusted as she scrolled farther down JK Rowlings twitter feed. It was filled with similarly visceral factoids about the sex lives of Harry Potter characters, occadionally broken up with retweets from transphobes.

Mary Poppins was disgusted. As hard as people may try to keep their creations all prominent in the cultural zeitgeist, the inevitability of irrelevance was cruel and undeniable, like your reliance on clothes made in sweatshops, or the comedic value of a french person trying to pronounce 'Newfounland'. Still, childhood ruining tweets like this seemed like a bridge to far.

"This is horrifying!" Mary Poppins said. "How could you keep her here like this?"

Hey, she's here by choice!" Tim Curry is Legend said defensively. "I'm just here to take her back to the real world once she decided to write a fucking novel!"

"What if I help… persuade her?"

"I don't care. Try your best." Tim Curry in Legend said, sitting back in his throne, and returning his attention to an issue of Nintendo Power.

Mary Poppins grabbed the phone, slapping away JK Rowling's hand as she grasped for it.

"No, I need it!" JK Rowling said weakly.

Mary Poppins looked at the cork board. The most recent darts were wedged into the notes that said "The Pavarti twins", "Horntail" and "Hagrid".

"No, you really fucking don't." Mary Poppins said, bursting open her umbrella to shield herself from the torrents of darts JK Rowling was desperately hurling at her.

"How about 'The Pavarti twins were the only Indian girls at Hogwarts because India had their own wizarding school'?"

You would have thought someone had killed JK Rowling's daughter in front of her for how loud and tortured her screams sounded.

"Sweet and Sour Jesus." Tim Curry in Legend remarked, putting on noise-cancelling headphones.

"Are you going to make a new novel?"

"The source material is saa-a-a-acred!"

"'There are tons of trans kids at hogwarts. They can choose their genders as freely and easily as Harry chose his house.'" Mary Poppins typed, saying it aloud.

"ReeeEEEEE!" JK Rowling yeeted her dart bucket at Mary Poppins. They bounced off her umbrella.

"I was really high when I decided all the bankers looked like Warwick Davis cosplaying nazi propagand-"

"Stop! STOP!" JK Rowling screeched. "Fuck, Alright! I'll write a new novel!"

"Thank you!" Tim Curry in Legend called out, exasperated. Stuffing his Nintendo Power into his knapsack, he slipped a switch and a portal opened up.

"At least my film adaptations didn't shit on my source material!" JK Rowling shouted at Mary Poppins as Tim Curry carried her by the scruff of her shit.

"At least my author didn't do it herself, asshole!" Mary Poppins retorted as Tim Curry in Legend carried JK Rowling to the portal.

"In you go." Tim Curry tossed her through the portal, waiting for her to disappear in the swirling miasma of colors. "Poppins, want a ride?"

"Sure." Mary Poppins jumped into the portal. Without any ass parnips, this portal was her only way out.

She landed on her ass, in the room her sex job was happening in. Stephen Hawking was sitting beside an open window, talking dirty to himself beneath a layer of lubed parsnips.

"Oh, Mary, hey." Kermit the frog perked up from inside his pimp chalice. "How are you?"

"I farted into an parralell dimension and convinced JK Rowling to write a new novel."

"...Cool." Kermit said seconds later after trying and failing to process that information. "Hawkings fetish covered the rest of you debt. Any more jobs will be pure profit!"

"Does this mean we can shut down talks for that Tron-Legacy style sequel-reboot?" Mary Poppins asked, her eyes lighting up with hope.

"They, uh, already made it."

"Fuck this shit, I'm out." Mary Poppins packed her suitcase and fucked off to Tijuanna.

The End.


End file.
